by Terry Reid
“Well of course they’ll attack you if you go looking like that.” She pointed to the white elephant in the corner of the room. Fallo growled from behind barred teeth.
“Do not speak of me as if I were a freak. You look exactly the same! We may have evolved into several different sub species and we may be able to re-write our DNA thanks to the metal in our blood but we are still born like that.” he nodded toward his original form. He inclined his head. “Why should we have to hide our true identities just because the humans are panicky and ignorant? They kill anything that looks different to them regardless of how harmless they might be.”
“They’ve always been like that.”
“That’s not my problem nor is it yours.”
Terry closed her eyes, sighing. “Father, please. Can we please try again with the Senate? Politics is never straight forward. It always takes time for things to be worked out. Can you please at least try again?”
He regarded her. “I will consider it.” He said flatly.
Terry smiled she knew that was his way of saying yes. She ran up to him and kissed him on the forehead. “Thanks dad.” She whispered.
He couldn’t help but smile despite still feeling angry. “Don’t push your luck little one.”
“Shall I tell them that you’ll be willing to talk to them again later?”
His smile vanished. It struck Terry how tired he was. “Yes...” he said resentfully. “But please say I will be a few hours. I need to have something to eat and gather my thoughts together.”
“Do you want me to get Lyle to sit in with you?”
He looked up at her. “I would appreciate your presence again as well.”
She smiled. “Okay. I will see you later.” Turning her back she rolled her eyes. She was just as fed up with politics as he was.
Chapter 15
The Pub
The Grove was one of the worst public houses Connor had ever had the misfortune to set foot in. A drunken, overweight, middle-aged man suddenly spewed at his feet. Ok, it was the worst pub he had ever been too, he decided.
Side stepping the foul smelling puddle of puke, Connor and Darius found themselves an empty table at the back of the pub. The nearby tables were deserted, so there was no risk of anyone overhearing them.
Connor glanced about, taking in his surroundings. Fortunately, the common room was open plan, with nothing, bar two pillars toward the centre of the room blocking his view of the entire foul-stinking watering hole.
The place was dead. There were only seven other people in besides Connor and Darius and one of those was the voluminous land lady. She was currently cursing the man who had thrown up. From the way she spoke to him Connor figured he was a regular.
Two of the others sitting at the bar laughed at the sickly fellow, while the other remaining man, an Alchemist by his appearance, kept himself to himself at the far end. The other two people in the bar, an older man and woman, sat at a nearby table eating the meagre food the place had to offer. They both looked disappointed. Connor figured they must have come in expecting it to be a quaint, upmarket pub to have a nice meal with such a name like The Grove. He too had been fooled.
“What time is it?” asked Darius, keeping his voice low.
Connor checked his watch. “About ten to one.” He replied, his gaze shifting over to the door.
Darius followed his gaze. “What if they don’t show up?”
“Don’t keep staring at the door.”
Darius averted his gaze.
“If they don’t show, they don’t show. There’s nothing else we can really do.” Connor looked about. The pub was poorly lit and the plaster was crumbling from the walls. He also noticed that the table was still covered in crumbs from the meal of a previous customer...although how long ago they had eaten was anyone’s guess.
“Should I go get us a couple of drinks?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing. I was going to get a cider, what do you want?”
Darius shrugged. “I’m not bothered. I’ll just have the same as you are.”
“Okay.” Connor got up and moved to the bar, returning a minute later with the two drinks in hand.
The two of them sat quietly, occasionally sipping their drinks and casting timely glances at the door. The minutes seemed to drag by.
Finally, Darius nodded at Connor’s watch again. Connor glanced at it. “It’s twenty past.”
“I don’t think they’re coming.”
“We should wait a little longer, just in case they do turn up. Lyle said that he was reliable.”
Darius shot him a nervous glance. “What is they’ve been caught?”
“Excuse me.”
The two of them sat back, turning their gaze to the person who approached. It was the Alchemist from the bar. He was rolling a cigarette as they approached. “Do you have a light?”
“I don’t smoke, sorry.” Connor apologised.
The man stared at him with a thin smile. “That doesn’t really make a difference does it? I mean, you are a fire elemental, right?”
The comment irritated him but he kept his cool. “I am...but...”
The Alchemist threw up his hands in supplication. “I’m sorry, that was a bit blunt. I didn’t mean to sound cheeky, sorry. I just thought I’d ask you for a light but thinking about it that were quite stupid how I said that.” By the time he had finished speaking, he had seated himself beside Darius. He lowered his voice and leant across the table. “And you must be Connor.”
Connor looked at him guardedly. “And you are?”
“A friend. I saw the two of you come in a while ago and thought you were the ones I was after but I wasn’t sure. Then I heard you mention Lyle.” He licked the cigarette paper and sealed the edges. “You shouldn’t really say his name. Alchemists have great ears.”
“Lots of people have that name.” Connor offered but he knew no-one else who went by it.
The Alchemist shot him a knowing glance. There was no doubt in his expression as to who they had been talking about. “If you don’t want to speak to my friend then that’s fine, I can go.” He said, making to leave.
Connor held up a hand, inviting the man to remain.
Sitting back down, the Alchemist gave the fire-starter a respectful nod in thanks. Then he held out his cigarette and said, “So what about that light?”
Grudgingly Connor lit it with a finger tip.
Taking a long draw the newcomer sat back, blowing out a bluish plume of smoke. “Cheers.”
Connor cut to the chase. “Can we meet him?”
Taking another draw the man shook his head. “No. It’s nothing personal. I don’t think you need to be told how much trouble he is in.”
Connor nodded understandingly. “How much do you know?”
“About what happened to him?”
Connor nodded.
“Lots, but not everything, you know what politicians are like.”
“We think he was framed.”
“He was but without any evidence to prove it everyone is going to keep coming after him.” He tapped the end of his cigarette into an ash tray. “I know you weren’t sent all this way just to ask me that.”
“I thought we had been sent all this way to discuss meeting him, it would make things a lot easier for both of us.”
“Ask me what you want to know and I’ll try my best to answer.”
Connor leant forward, folding his arms on the table. “Who framed him?” He asked, cutting to the chase.
The Alchemist drew on his cigarette but never took his eyes from the Pyrovite. They both knew exactly who Connor was referring too. Blowing a trail of smoke he said, “Your old friend Ed, yes.”
Darius’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. He looked at Connor, who was just as surprised, despite having expected it.
“How?”
The Alchemist glanced about before leaning closer across the table. He tapped his cigarette again. “I don’t know but it was him, I can guarantee you that mu
ch.”
“Why was he set-up by him then?”
The Alchemist shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Did he know him?”
The stranger shrugged. “I don’t know. My friend knows a lot of people and I don’t see him all the time. To be honest we are more acquaintances than anything else. He may have done he may have not.”
Connor sighed. “You’re not being much help.”
The man shrugged. “I’m sorry, I don’t know everything. Maybe you need to ask better questions.”
Connor narrowed his gaze. “I was led to belief that you were a very close friend of his. Yet you seem to know hardly anything at all.”
He took another draw of his cigarette but said nothing.
Then Connor knew. “You know a lot more than you are telling me.”
“I don’t need to tell you anything. I do not know you, friend.”
“You either tell me what you know or you’ll have to speak to my friend. Then you really will have to tell them everything whether you like it or not.”
The Alchemist cast a dubious look at Darius. “What? Him? What’s he going to do?”
The corner of Connor’s lip curled up. “Not him.”
“Me,” said a woman as she sat down beside him.
His eyes widened.
“Hello Micca.” Terry said, with a cruel smile.
He shook his head in disbelief, the ash falling from the end of his forgotten cigarette onto the table. “You have no authority over me, you were exiled.”
“Really? I could always drag you back to the capital and you can try telling that to my father.”
Connor turned to her. “What do you think he would do?”
“Kill him.” Terry said. There was no hesitation or doubt in her words. She looked back at Micca and she could see the terror in his eyes. “Now, why don’t we begin?”
******
The guard cowered. He was pinned to the floor beneath King Fallo’s foot. The Alchemist drew his head near and roared furiously. Over two hundred guards had the leader of the Alchemist race circled and more were filing into the Ministers Hall in a continuous stream. They stood with weapons at the ready; but were clearly nervous.
Three minutes ago King Fallo and Lyle had been sitting discussing the terms of Terry’s exile with the ministers. The discussions had been interrupted when an overzealous captain of the Parliament’s Guard had stormed in with a full contingent of men declaring the arrest of the King and his party for conspiracy against the Senate. Now the captain’s life rested between Fallo’s clawed toes.
“Stand down! For god’s sake stand down!” screamed the Prime Minister.
The guards hesitated. They only took orders from their captain. But at the same time they were not willing to disobey the authority of their premier or entertain the notion of fighting one of the strongest Alchemists on the planet.
The metal spikes on Fallo’s backs raised and he roared at them, his eyes darting between the tiny guards.
“Stand down!” Lyle shouted, echoing the Prime Minister’s words as he stood between the guards and his King. “If you don’t he will kill you all!” he warned.
This was enough for most of the men and women at arms. Slowly and hesitantly, they lowered their weapons and backed off.
Fallo straightened and craned his head low. His antennae fell flat against his head he hissed fiercely; ready to pounce if provoked.
The Prime Minister looked up at the towering Alchemist. “Your Lord, please forgive us. Captain Shinnke was not acting on our leave, his actions are unjust. But please, show mercy!”
Fallo roared, turning his attention back to the captain.
“Fallo...” Lyle whispered.
Fallo’s eyes shifted to him. He shook his head. “This is not what your daughter would want.”
He hissed.
“We knew this might happen once they realised she was gone.” Lyle whispered, careful not to be heard.
But the captain heard. “You see! You see! They knew that she was gone! They told us nothing! This was a trick! To keep the Senate distracted while...”
Fallo roared in the man’s face, his large jagged teeth mere centimetres from his head.
“Silence! If you value your life!” the Prime Minister ordered the captain, although Fallo had achieved that without his intervention.
Lyle turned to face the Senate. “I’m sorry, we knew she had gone but it was necessary. We did not come here to undermine your authority or act in any way as a distraction. The King is here on official business to have his daughter’s exile overturned. Terryfallo has acted on her own accord, not through any orders of mine, the King or any other authority. She left to find evidence that Edward is still alive.”
The Prime Minister was ashen. “What?” he muttered in stunned disbelief.
“I apologise for her actions but we feared you would not believe us otherwise.”
The Prime Minister slumped into his seat. He had a terrible dilemma before him. Had it all been a trick? Was the King really here to act a distraction? Or was what his general saying true? At the moment it didn’t matter which was true. He, his cabinet and the guard were at the King’s mercy. His next words could either save or kill them. The prime minister considered his next words carefully. His gaze met the giant Alchemist, who studied him in turn. “If the guard stand down you must release the captain.” He said in even tones.
Lyle looked at his brother for his answer. Fallo gazed at the Prime Minister for a long minute. Suddenly he sneered and visibly relaxed, the metallic spikes falling flat against his back.
The Prime Minister stood, gesturing to the guards, who slowly backed off.
“Brother.” Lyle whispered. Fallo’s gaze fell on him, the anger undiminished in his eyes. For a moment Lyle didn’t think his older brother would hold up his end of the bargain. He was overwhelmed with relief when he did.
The captain scurried back, stumbling over twice in his hasty retreat. Fallo hissed at him as he fled, causing the terrified man to run even quicker.
“For the sake of preserving peace between our two nations I implore you both to please return to your quarters until this mess is sorted out and your daughter is found. I do not wish for any bloodshed.”
Fallo hissed before turning away, his large frame smashing desks and chairs as he scuttled from the Great Hall, to angry to care for the destruction he left in his wake.
******
It was late evening. Darius gazed out across the coast. Retreating into the horizon he could see the small island of Naris and turning his head he could see the sun dipping low against the sea. He sighed. He was glad to be leaving the small port city behind for the possibility of unseen forces pursuing them. But to his dismay they were not heading back to Marrich.
Instead they had boarded a train for Newport. Micca had informed them that Lord Rilario was in hiding at a small seaside village further up the east coast. He had been there two days ago and was adamant the minister would still be there.
But Newport was at least eleven hours away by train and even longer by any other mode of transport. It would be early morning before they arrived.
Micca had put up a lengthy protest about not taking them, sobbing in tears that he was endangering his and Lord Rilario’s life by returning to Newport. He said that during his last visit he had been followed when he left the minister, which had ended in a chase. Micca had managed to escape and had not seen the three men who gave flight to him since, but he feared that other agents of the Senate or the royal family would be hanging around in case he returned. Ultimately Terry had threatened to turn him over to her father again if he did not do what he was asked. Micca swiftly changed his mind.
They had managed to get a hold of a private cab in the classic locomotive with a nice little table and comfortable chairs. Not many people travelled such distances at this time of day.
Micca stared across the table at her while Terry gazed absently out the window at the sunset soaked l
andscape. “Does it make you feel big?” he asked, catching her attention.
She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“You. Abusing you power to get what you want.”
“It’s not something I’m in the habit of doing but considering you seemed to do nothing but lie to my friends you didn’t really leave me with any choice.”
“Ha, right, whatever you say.” He folded his arms.
“I don’t care what you think. You can’t say anything, considering it was your lying that got you flung out of the colony in the first place.
He leant forward, fixing her with his gaze. “We’ve never met properly before today. How do you know who I am?”
She held his gaze as she leant across the table. “I may have only been ten years old but I was old enough to remember you being thrown out. I remember most of the twenty million people who live in our colony. Most of them not personally, but by name and face and smell like you do. I may have been away for a long time but my memory’s absolutely fine.”
He held her gaze. “I assumed you would have been just a little too young to remember me.”
“You should never assume anything.” She said, sitting back.
“I don’t think it’s fair, you using your strength and status like that to get what you want to know, especially since we are both exiled and by law have no more civil rights and rank than I do. You have no authority over me.”
She leant across the table again, lowering her voice. “Yet you sang like a birdie once I told you too. It doesn’t really matter what people say I can and can’t do. You are still predisposed to answer me when I ask you too, whether you want to or not. It’s a primeval force bred into you through millions of years.”
“Fuck you.”
Terry sat back.
“Micca, stand up.”
His eyes widened in horror. “No...” he muttered as he shot to his feet. Darius shuffled away. Whatever was going to happen next he did not know but he didn’t want to sit that close to Micca when he found out.
